


When Flowers Wither

by apricotT_T



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten is a Tease, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin is a Genius, Enemies to Lovers, Kun is Trying His Best, M/M, Slow Burn, how was that not a tag before?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricotT_T/pseuds/apricotT_T
Summary: “Who the fuck has a pilot-themed flower shop, anyway? How does that make sense? And why does it have to be a block away from my shop? I’m opening tomorrow and that asshole’s going to steal all my customers, what the fuck.”OrA kunten enemies to lovers journey we all needed.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 25
Kudos: 65





	1. Grey Suit

  
“Yes, I am legally allowed to say fuck on this premises,” Ten huffs as he hauls a container of white lilies out of the moving van. “I studied law for two weeks. Don’t argue with me.”

Next to him, a visibly unimpressed Yangyang grabs a bag of soil and follows Ten in suit. “Aren’t you the same person who tried suing me for flicking your forehead that one time?”

Ten stops and stares him dead in the eye. “I’m an expensive man, Yangyang. Don’t flick what you can’t afford.”

Even through sealed moving boxes, the flowers emit a sharp aroma throughout the newly rented shop. To say Ten is ecstatic is an understatement. He’s been dreaming of the day he starts his very own flower shop since he planted his first yellow daisy with his mom back home. A sense of pride swells in him as he sees his little buddies grow brighter and beautiful as the time passes. He loves getting his hands dirty to care for them; it makes him feel like he’s doing something worthwhile. Because of the care he puts into them, he’s a thinker and then a doer, always making sure his plants don’t wither away unless it’s their time to.

Needless to say, he didn’t expect the move to happen so suddenly. It’s the first compulsive decision he’s ever made in his life and, as Yangyang lets out a string of curses (despite reprimanding Ten for swearing literally one second ago), treading into the shop with another bag of soil hoisted over his shoulder, he’s hoping it’s the last.

“I said ditch, ma’am,” Yangyang calls, and Ten turns to see a woman clutching her pearls a little tighter as the younger hurriedly continues. “Ditch! Like, holes and stuff. In the ground, I mean. Haha. Please don’t kick him out. Kick me, instead.”

“Mr. Ten Lee,” she greets, scandalized, as Yangyang bends over to allow the poor landlady to attack him. Ten promptly pulls him up, masking his amusement. “You didn’t say anything about a roommate?”

“He’s just helping me settle in. Please don’t mind him.”

“Dear God, I hope so.” She dodges a sulking Yangyang and hands Ten a set of keys, her nails manicured to perfection. “This one’s the shop key, and these are the keys to your apartment upstairs. Just open this door, walk up the stairs and home sweet home.” She flicks back her long, silky hair as Ten confirms the keys, batting her eyelashes a little. Yangyang’s skeptical gaze shifts between her and Ten, his brain cells picking up their pace.

Finally, two brain cells kiss and he’s met with a realization. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to say this; I don’t mean to sound ridiculous but–”

“Thanks for seeing me in!” Ten interrupts, shooting a mildly disturbing glare in the younger’s direction. “Have a good day. Goodbye now.”

Yangyang continues to eye the landlady as she’s driving off to wherever pretty rich ladies go on a Friday afternoon. His mind is blank yet full at the same time. He feels like he’s ascending. “ _Dude_.”

“Can you help me carry in the carnations? I brought a lot of them.”

“ _Your landlady wants to bone you._ ”

Ten lets out a single laugh, making the younger instinctively laugh with him, before immediately losing all trace of amusement on his face. Yangyang felt a shiver go up his spine. “Did soil get in your brain? Let’s finish up and I’ll take you to dinner.”

He lights up. “You mean it??”

“You’re the worst person to ever walk this Earth. Hamlet’s downfall was his indecisiveness, Macbeth’s was his ambition, mine is our friendship,” Yangyang sulks, pouting as Ten relishes in the wood-oven pizza he set down a few minutes ago. “When you said dinner, I thought you meant we’d go out to a place _not_ my family restaurant. You know, where you’d actually pay for the food you eat.”

“I haven’t eaten a hot meal in ages. Have some sympathy.” Ten picks up another slice. “Besides, I missed Xiaojun.”

“I forbid you from speaking to my cousin!” Seeing Yangyang’s absolutely horrified expression, Ten smiles into his bite. “I won’t allow it. Never. He’s still young and has a lot to learn.”

“He’s older than you.”

“He’s easily seduced by you, which means he’s young and naïve and has zero taste in men.”

“But I’m such a nice guy?”

“You’re a headache.”

Ten reclines, offended. “I’m lovely!”

“Says who?”

“Everyone?? I’m a delight!”

“Your mom doesn’t count.”

“Ten, hello.” Lowering the knife he has aimed at Yangyang, Ten looks up to see Xiao Dejun himself setting down a green tea latte in front of him. Xiaojun’s cheeks are a little flushed, and he smiles at Ten warmly. He’s radiant, to say the least. “It’s been a while. I really like your new hair.”

The blonde boy offers him an eye smile. “Thanks, Xiaojunnie. You look really nice today.”

Yangyang pointedly watches the scene unfold as his two headaches pretend he isn’t sitting right there, third-wheeling like it’s his job, and he makes a mental note to never let Ten inside their restaurant ever again to avoid further encounters such as this one.

Unfortunately for Yangyang, however, that didn’t last long. Ten stumbles into the establishment the very next afternoon, ordering ‘the usual’ (He ate here, like, once. What usual?) before landing on an empty seat and slamming his head into his crossed arms on the tabletop. Now, Yangyang was no Einstein, but it looks like the older didn’t have a good day, so he let his strict No Freeloaders Allowed rule slide this time – just this once.

Except it happened the next day as well, and Yangyang has had enough of his cousin’s worried glances to Ten’s table every three damn seconds, so he sits down on the seat opposite Ten and decides to lay down the line.

“You. Speak.”

Ten, completely unfazed, takes a break from his pasta to grab a napkin. He dabs around his mouth, takes a long sip of his iced americano, and gracefully picks up his fork again before continuing his dinner.

Yangyang stares.

Only when Ten uploads a picture of the two of them to Instagram, the younger’s face blurred out with a very obviously free editing app and the caption reading ‘can’t see the fakes’, does Yangyang decide desperate times call for desperate measures.

“If you don’t tell me what’s bothering you _right now_ –”

“Xiaojun dear, do you hear something? I think you left a window open.”

“– I’ll tell Dejun how we really met.”

Ten visibly chokes on his pasta, hacking and grabbing for his americano while he can still save his life, since the little shit sitting opposite him decides it’s more fun to watch him die on parmesan cheese instead of aiding him, and he actually throws cutlery at Yangyang this time. “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“That’s entirely up to you.”

“Choke.” Ten glowers as soon as the insult leaves his mouth. “Stop laughing, I know I just did. Thanks for your help, by the way. Remind me why you didn’t become a doctor, again?”

“If I did, you wouldn’t have eaten free food this entire weekend.” Yangyang sighs before his expression softens. “Are you okay? You seem upset. Homesickness?”

Ten downs the rest of his americano, promptly scooping a few shards of ice into his mouth so he can chew on something and continue being unnecessarily petty towards the younger for a few more minutes. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Pilot’s Petals?”

Yangyang shuts up.

“Who the fuck has a pilot-themed flower shop, anyway? How the fuck does that make sense? And why does it just _have_ to be a block away from my shop? I’m opening _tomorrow_ and that asshole’s going to steal all my customers, what the fuck.”

Yangyang’s brain reboots. “Wait, you met Qian Kun?”

“And – get this, right – that fucker hates flowers! Why does he have a flower shop?! When he hates flowers?! Make it make sense!!”

“How did you meet him?”

“Does he think he’s better than me because he’s a flower-hating hipster? Oh, look at me, I’m too cool to enjoy anything, look at my thick-framed glasses and checkered shirt I use as a jacket instead of a shirt, wow I’m so _cool_.” Yangyang throws a piece of Ten’s now cold, unfinished pasta at him. “ _Ow_? Not cool, man.”

“I get it, you’re old, but shut up about hipsters for a second. How did you meet Qian Kun?”

“Qian Kun,” Ten scowls, then wipes the spot where the pasta landed with a napkin. “I was walking to the restaurant to thank you for dinner the other day, and his shop was on the way. At first I was like, wow, another florist? Sweet! Let me go say hello since we have something in common. Then, _bam_ , a dude with a grey – yes, _grey_ – suit walks out. He says I smell like fertilizer – and I took great offense to that, you know, my shop smells amazing, thank you very much – and kicks me out the store when I say I’m opening a flower shop a block away. Can you believe the nerve of this guy? Rude! Anyway, I put up a fight because I’m strong and independent and I refuse to let any uptight _man_ in a grey suit manhandle me, and I guess that annoyed him, so he told me my flower shop will never beat his so I should save myself the trouble and move somewhere else. Then I got really mad, called him a cunt while some old lady walked past, and then I came to your restaurant to eat my troubles away. And now I have to walk past that cursed shit stain whenever I want to see you and Xiaojun, and I’m reminded of his grey suit every time, and then I get mad all over again, and I blamed you for not telling me about a potential archnemesis _before_ I packed up everything I owned and moved here. Care to explain yourself, you fucking snake?”

Yangyang did nothing, absolutely nothing, but blink after Ten was done.

Then, he wheezed.

“This is _so_ _much_ better than I expected, oh my God.”

Ten shoots him an unimpressed glare. “I’m glad you find joy in my pain.”

“Kun’s the sweetest guy ever, I’m not kidding. Oh my God, this is amazing. Dejun, did you hear that? Please tell me you heard that. I’m crying.”

In the meantime, Ten chews on more ice. He’s used to this, so he waits patiently.

“I can’t believe you’re here for one weekend and you already got on Qian Kun’s bad side. Wow, I’m impressed.” Yangyang wipes a few stray tears from his eyes. “But I think it’s a great idea for you two to be friends. Don’t worry about him stealing your customers, Kun’s company is for formal, sophisticated events. No offense, but your flowers are more on the everyday side.”

Ten scoffed. “That depends on how you arrange them, dimwit.”

“No,” Xiaojun walks over this time, pulling up a chair and sitting down with a hot cup of tea nursed in his hands. “I think Yangyang means Kun’s entire shop is completely different to yours. He just sells greenery and basic flowers – everything in shades of green and white. There are no colored petals in his shop. He sells to businesses for corporate events and stuff, while you sell your flowers to everyone for whatever reason they want. He won’t steal your business, but he’s right in saying your shop won’t beat his.”

“ _Xiaojunnie_?” Ten couldn’t believe this. His darling didi was taking the side of the– of a guy wearing a grey suit _in this economy_ over Ten and his amazing and unfaultable fashion sense.

Xiaojun chuckles and rubs a sheepish hand behind his neck. “Sorry, Ten, but Pilot’s Petals is an actual, established company. The one Kun’s managing is just a franchise. I thought you knew.”

“Well, shit,” Ten admits. “Still, I don’t care. Like hell I’ll let a _hipster_ be better than me. I didn’t move all the way here for nothing. My shop is going to be amazing and you’ll all buy me a throne by the end of this.”

“If you’ll make that much money, why don’t you buy the throne yourself?”

“Shut _up_ , Yangyang. Nobody cares.”

“A three-month deficit. Are you proud of yourself? Would you like it if we take it out of your paycheck?”

Hendery typed on his phone as Kun reprimanded him. Honestly, there’s just not as many businesses in the area. What should Hendery do – hold corporate events himself? He _could_ stop exploiting company expenses by chilling with Lucas in the shop but, hey, if he and his best friend could leach off a thousand-dollar company instead of paying for excess resources from their own pockets, who are they to say no?

“I’m not returning the mini-fridge I bought with the company card.” Hendery stares his superior dead in the eye, fingers still typing away on his phone. “You will have to kill me first.”

“The company card is for the shop, Dery, not your personal needs.”

“And the fridge is _in_ the shop!” He points to a random corner to emphasize his point. “The leaves or whatever you call it need cold water sometimes, you know.”

“Those are succulents. You don’t even need to water them that much.”

“Exactly! Look at the care I’m putting into my work, hm? Cold, refreshing water for the best leaf… things. Who’s doing it like me?”

“No one, I hope.” Kun pinches the bridge of his nose, tired of having this talk with Hendery every second day. He loves the guy, and Kun would honestly do the same if he was in his position, but how would he explain the deficit to the board members? His dad will scrap the shop in a heartbeat if they achieve losses for the fourth month in a row, and then Hendery will be left even more jobless, and Lucas won’t have a cool place to hang out with them anymore. Maybe he could ask Yangyang and Xiaojun for a favor – ask their parents to keep two job openings available in case things really go south.

But, if there’s no shop here, Kun would have to move back home.

“Hendery.”

“I swear to God, we do not have a stash of chips hidden in that big ass pot. Please don’t look.”

Kun grabs a bag of Cheetos out, anyway. “We really have to break-even this month. I’m not kidding. They’ll close the shop.”

Hendery reaches for a handful of Cheetos himself before solemnly thinking: maybe it’s time they work a little harder. For him, Lucas and Kun. For their safe space.

Ten’s shop isn’t a hit as soon as he opens for business but, soon enough, the store is bustling with movement and wandering eyes. Some things about Ten? He can speak five languages, bake a mean chocolate cake and can lick his elbow, which is really cool and all, but it’s not why potential customers are crowding around _Honey Stems_ today.

Ten’s also a really, really, _really_ good artist.

And the intricate designs covering every corner of his shop was all it took for the first customer to walk in. He planned it that way – the more you wade through flora, subtly hidden on random flowerpots and the likes, the more artworks you’d find. If you purchase a plant (and promise to take good care of it, to which a little girl eagerly nodded as her dad purchased a bouquet of roses for her, completely determined) he’d offer a hand-drawn message card, as well. So far, he’s using all his skills to his advantage – rushed art and cheap business tactics – and it’s working out perfectly.

Until, someone knocks an arrangement right out of Ten’s hands.

“If I wanted single flowers, I could’ve plucked them from my own garden. Everything’s falling out the bouquet! I refuse to pay for this.”

Ten lowers his gaze. “My apologies, ma’am. I’m a little overwhelmed right now, please be patient.”

“Patient? You’re a florist! How do you not know how to tie a bouquet? And your arrangements are sloppy, my six year old can pair prettier flowers.”

Truth is, overwhelmed is an understatement. Ten’s never expected this many people to visit his shop at once; the entire store is crammed and it’s hard for him to be everywhere he has to be. If he doesn’t help customers immediately, they end up leaving, but if he leaves his spot at the front desk too frequently, he won’t be able to finalize the purchases and the line might get long enough to discourage shopping customers from joining it if he keeps them waiting. On top of the management side of things, Ten, admittedly, has grown up solely focusing on nurturing his little plant pals. He’s never had to worry about the aesthetic side to this scale before, and his brain is working overtime to cater to different customers with different tastes on the spot. He feels like, mentally, he’s shadow clone jitsu’ed and there’s 20 of him running around the store at once, but he’s physically stuck in one place because Naruto’s an anime and Ten is not a ninja (yet). Honestly, once he closes shop for the day, he might just need a free pizza from Yangyang again.

“Hey, if you’re not buying that, can I have it? I like it.”

Ten’s ninja clones all return to him now, and he looks up to see a slim figure motioning to the oranges and whites Ten’s fumbling hands hold together. The customers look at each other, before the lady eventually gives in and walks out of the shop, muttering something about writing a bad review online. The new customer smiles at him, instead. “Can you write ‘To Dong Sicheng’ on the card? Your handwriting’s cool.”

Ten blinks. “Oh. Sure. Do you want me to say who it’s from?”

“Winwin.”

“Thanks for being nice, Winwin,” Ten smiles. “I’m sorry about what you had to see. I’ll try and wrap yours a bit better, for Sicheng.”

“No, no, these are for me.” He shrugs at Ten’s raised eyebrow. “Self-love, you know? I want flowers for the living room.”

“Good choice. Thank you and have a nice day!”

By the time Day 1 is done, Ten wants to cry. Not because managing his first store is a lot for him, but what comes after. His legs feel so heavy from standing the entire day he’s surprised he didn’t notice sooner. His mouth is so parched his throat burns as he gulps his water and, as the cherry on top of the fucking cake, that lady actually left a bad review! The nerve! Granted, it’s flooded by a lot of positive comments, and bad reviews are bound to happen so Ten’s taking it as valid constructive criticism to improve himself, but the audacity??

But, worst of all, is a review from Winwin saying “Pilot’s is better”.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Now, Ten knows everybody is entitled to their own opinion. No matter how _wrong_ it is, it’s their opinion and he has to accept that. **But**. Even though he ran around that shop like a headless chicken and sweated in places he didn’t know he could sweat, he knows One Thing: He Looked Fucking Good Today.

And to say he comes short to a man willingly wearing a _grey suit_ on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of Summer just to sit on his ass in a dull flower shop? No, Ten’s not accepting this. At all.

Challenge fucking accepted, Pilot’s Petals.

“Hey, Kun.”

Kun ignores Hendery as he brainstorms for ways to get more customers. He’s thinking of going to some middle schools nearby to teach them a thing or two about how different plants work, and maybe persuade some parents into buying an arrangement while he’s at it.

“ _Kun_.”

Maybe he could go up to some of the smaller businesses that don’t have corporate events, and advertise arrangements to use as shop decorations? Some cafés are nearby – they would be more open to the idea, wouldn’t they? Especially the succulent leaves; they won’t need as much water. He needs to make sure he mentions that to the owners.

“Big Baby Daddy Kun?”

Oh! He could set up some by the grocery store! Lots of people buy impulsively there, he’s sure they’d score a few customers.

“For the love of God, Qian Kun, pay attention to me or I will lick this entire cactus and shove it up – ”

“ _What_ , Hendery,” Kun snaps. “What do you want now?”

“Someone named Winwin left a review on our page saying Honey Stems is better than us. Isn’t that the new shop a block away from us?”

A flower shop a block away… Kun swallows. “Huh?”

“I asked Lucas if he knew about it, he said he bought some flowers a few weeks ago and the message cards are sick as hell. He also said the owner spoke some Thai with him and he felt really nice being there.” Hendery paused for a bit. “Wait, what the fuck? Kun, we have competition! We already aren’t selling shit, now we’ll sell even less shit because everyone’s going there! We’re fucked!”

Kun didn’t move.

“ _And_ Lucas bought from the enemy when he never buys from us? That fucking traitor! He’s not getting ass for a month.”

Kun blinked. “What?”

“What.”

“Ten, I seriously think you need to hire a part-timer or something. The shop’s doing amazing, but you’re overworked.”

Ten groans into his garlic bread. “I guess. I made quite a bit of profit even though it’s the first month; I’ll think about it.”

“Remember, your health comes first!” Xiaojun beams at him, and Ten ruffles his hair with his non-garlic bread hand in return.

“I’m sure you said something about fucking your best friend the other day.”

“I didn’t say anything. Did you say something? I didn’t say anything. Language, Kun, we’re in a flower shop, Jesus Christ.”

“It’s alright if—”

The bell above the shop door jingles to indicate a customer walking in. Kun immediately halts and, before he knows it, Hendery is out front to assist the newcomer.

As the payment goes through, he wraps together some white flowers before handing them to the customer.

“Hey, did you hear about the new flower shop? It’s pretty cool,” the man shares. “Did you check it out?”

Hendery offers a strained chuckle, his customer service smile still in tact. “Unfortunately, no. We’ve been busy at schools and supermarkets this month. Thank you for your purchase!”

“That’s too bad,” the man sighs. “Anyways, can you write ‘To Dong Sicheng’ on the card? From Winwin.”

Hendery’s eyes shoot up. “Winwin? Ah, I see. Again, thank you for shopping with us.”

The next time Ten meets Kun, it’s at the supermarket. He wouldn’t have noticed him if it weren’t for the booming “we broke even!” the brunette next to him let out with glee. Ten offers him a stink eye when the pair locked gazes, and Kun sticks out his tongue in retaliation. Ten, with his pride hurt at having witnessed such a childish comeback, promptly marches over to Kun so he can settle the score.

“Broke even, huh? Where’s Mr. Hotshot Your-Shop-Will-Never-Beat-Mine now?”

Kun merely laughs. “At least my sales are organic. You’re a florist yet your customers are there for everything but your flowers.”

Ten shoots a deadly glare towards the brunette next to Kun whooping an “ooooh!” and decides it’s best if he pretends the other doesn’t exist. “You know what’s real? The profits I’m counting at the end of every month. Admit it, my flower shop’s better and you’re a boring loser.”

“My mom said I should never lie.”

“And she’s right! Now fess up.”

“Hey, can I get a carton of milk? Thanks.” Winwin shoves his way between the two bickering adults, grabbing the nearest object in reach (juice, not milk), but before he could run away, Kun and Ten are holding both of his arms, exclaiming a ‘ _Winwin_?’ as said Winwin looks around uncomfortably.

“‘Sup, guys. Can you let me go? I kinda have stuff to do.”

“Which flower shop is better,” Ten demands. “It’s mine, right? Not this hag’s?”

“ _Hag_? Winwin, don’t you love the plants you bought from us? We’re better, right?”

He remained still until they were both quiet. Hendery got goosebumps just watching the man’s amazing resolve. Then, Winwin spoke. “You,” he points at Ten, and his eyes brim with victory before Winwin promptly shuts it down. “Your shop is still new. Who knows if it has longevity. How will I know if it’s better? And you,” he points at Kun. “Your shop just broke even, but will you make a loss next month when your advertising wears off? How will I know if your shop’s better?”

Ten and Kun, both, didn’t say a word.

“Come back to me in a few months. Whoever makes the most honest profit — that’s who will be better.”

And with that, Winwin leaves to do the rest of his shopping. Hendery, despite the situation, applauds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work T_T How was it? Should I continue?


	2. Sunshine and Doodoo Shoes

The first time Ten runs into Kun, it’s after he’s nearly blinded.

Ten is on his seventh YouTube tutorial. It’s been approximately one week since the incident at the supermarket, and he’s more than determined to get a head start and win Month One. Six months, they decided. Honey Stems and Pilot’s Petals will battle it out for six months, and whoever earns the most sales for four months out of the six, wins.

And like hell Ten’s going to let Kun and his grey suit get the satisfaction of beating him in the first month. Over his dead, beautiful body. He’s watching floral arrangement tutorials on YouTube, but there’s nothing he doesn’t know already. Get flowers that look nice together, and tie them in a bouquet. He doesn’t understand why his arrangements supposedly suck – he’s doing everything the very nice florist YouTuber people are doing in their videos, and he knows a thing or two about which colors go together since he draws, so surely his arrangements can’t be _that_ bad?

If it weren’t for similar complaints from his customers, Ten would defend his arrangements till that suit was ripped right off of Kun’s _stupid_ grey suit wearing body.

Shaking his head, refusing to waste his precious energy on that walking fashion disaster, Ten decides to find inspiration and takes a walk around the neighborhood park – see who the local people are, what they like to do, then he can understand their tastes. He passes by three elderly ladies, then approximately two old men, four dog walkers, then he thinks he should not have done this at noon on a weekday while the hip, young people are busy being productive for society.

Oh well, the fresh air is lovely. The exercise would do him some good after confining inside his shop like the hermit he is, so he walks brisker; let’s the sunshine and wind soak his skin. A small part of him still regrets wasting his lunchtime until he walks into, objectively, the most handsome person he’s ever seen in his mortal life. Ten watches the sun radiate against the other as he falls to his demise. If there’s any way to go, he thinks recoiling from the sheer impact of crashing into that broad of a back is the way God intended for Ten. He does not oppose.

Until he stops falling, opens his eyes and sees he’s kind of hanging in midair. Huh, well that’s new. Until he uses his brain a little more and realizes the man kindly has an arm around Ten’s waist, preventing his fall, and they’ve been standing like that for about three minutes now. Ten adjusts himself to a proper footing and blushes as the man lets go.

“Are you OK? You looked a bit out of it.” Ten’s sure he’s heard this voice before. From his dreams, maybe. Is an angel speaking to him? “Oh, hey! It’s you!”

“Me?” Ten gets more and more confused as the man’s smile widens. “Do I know you?”

“Your flower shop, I bought a few things from there. We even spoke in Thai! I can’t believe you forgot about me,” Lucas pouts, and the cog that stopped moving in Ten’s brain suddenly kickstarts.

“Of course I remember you,” he jolts, switching to Thai, and the other’s puppy smile comes right back. Ten can’t help but return it warmly. “What are you doing here, anyway? Day off?”

“I’m still studying, but I have a lot of free time now. I go on walks like this a lot, to see all the pets in the neighborhood.” Something about Lucas reminds Ten of Xiaojun – they both enjoy the little things in life, and he finds that incredibly endearing. Maybe he’ll adopt a puppy as the shop’s mascot just so Lucas can play with one whenever he wants to. Oh, my God. Ten, write that the fuck down. Who needs Kun and his extra employee when Ten could have a fucking _puppy mascot._

“I was thinking of getting a job, actually.”

On the other hand – puppies poop and pee everywhere and Ten’s sure they’re not physically able to help clean up the shop, tend to flowers or ring up anyone’s purchase, and Ten won’t be obligated to buy expensive and nutritious dog food for Lucas (he thinks). And Lucas can, like, get it. That’s bonus points. Yeah, who the fuck needs a puppy. Ten’s been burning himself out trying to simultaneously run the shop and think of competitive strategies, while a very important competitive advantage Kun has over Ten is the brunette employee he glared at the last time in the supermarket. He still needs to hire a part-timer. And who knew a walking angel just so happened to need a job.

Ten grins.

“Drop by my shop tomorrow.”

By the time they part ways, the midday sun is directly above Ten. The weather is hot – the air humid and making his shirt stick to his torso. He regrets not drinking enough water while in the shop, but he’s getting a little too aggravated with how relentless the heat suddenly became. It’s a twenty minute walk back to the shop, for fuck’s sake. Maybe he could rest in one of the stores nearby until he feels like walking again. Yangyang and Xiaojun’s family restaurant shouldn’t be too far from here, but he supposes he should acquaint himself with other stores, too. Ooh, there’s a bakery across the street, a cozy little boutique, the back of a boring pilot-themed flower shop –

As Ten sprints away from the area as fast as his legs could carry him, heat be damned, he ends up running in the direction of the sun. Squinting and speeding through the street, he ends up tripping on air, nearly plummeting to his doom for the second time in half an hour until he’s caught unceremoniously by a man with brown formal shoes. Ten closes his eyes and shudders just thinking about that poop-colored footwear, but proceeds to thank his savior regardless of his poor fashion decisions.

“Never thought I’d hear you say ‘thank you’ in my life. Huh, it feels nice.”

Ten wants to punch Qian Kun and then himself.

“You know, if I died, you would’ve won.”

“That’s no fun. I would send an arrangement for the funeral, though.”

“As if I’d let you step an inch near my dead body with those doodoo shoes,” Ten shudders. “How do you always manage to wear everything distasteful? Is everything okay at home?”

“You’re literally sweating buckets right now. Stop talking about fashion.”

“Why? Can you see through my shirt?” Ten adjusts himself to check, and the tattoo on his breast is very visible in this new angle. Kun chokes, and that promptly puts an end to their bickering session. Ten feels satisfied; accomplished.

“Pick on my fashion sense all you want, my arrangements still sell without any complaints. How’s that going for you?”

Ten shuts up before Kun could tell him to, and angrily walks into the elderly-filled bakery. He orders a donut and ice coffee with a scowl on his face, cursing Qian Kun with all his might, but cheers up when the old lady behind the counter gives him a free brownie.

  
  


The second time Ten runs into Kun, it’s at a candlelight dinner.

Lucas arrives before Ten could finish his breakfast, fucking hell, and the latter grumpily makes his way to open the front door of the shop for Lucas to come in. He hisses at the morning sunlight, feeling it burn him like the gremlin he is whenever he’s hungry. Lucas greets him cheerfully, eyes wide and curious and excited for his first day on the job, and Ten’s fangs start fading away and the ice around his heart melts a little. He informs Lucas that he’s a bit early, and that he’s welcome to join Ten in his apartment so he’s not waiting alone in the shop.

While Ten’s munching on colorful cereal Lucas _really_ wants to eat too, the latter sneaks his phone out.

**Yukhei**

enemy ranks: infiltrated

**Kunhang**

what enemy r u talking about wtf r u doing it’s 7 in the morning

**Yukhei**

maybe if you didn’t ignore me for weeks-

**Kunhang**

you deserved it for supporting our rival

**Yukhei**

anyways, I’m in Ten’s apartment rn

babe stop trying to call me he’s literally sitting opposite me

**Kunhang**

WHY ARE YOU THERE?????

**Yukhei**

I was looking for a job and he offered!!

**Kunhang**

AND YOU ACCEPTED???

**Yukhei**

you spend all your time with your boss now anyway

if you win this competition thing soon we can hang out again

**Kunhang**

omg you’re going to sabotage him?? that’s kinda evil, he’s paying u and stuff

**Yukhei**

god no

that’s horrible

I’ll drop hints about his next move depending on how many kisses I get

**Kunhang**

still evil

but I like it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Talking to someone special?” Lucas nearly throws his phone into Ten’s cereal upon hearing his voice. “You were really smiley a few seconds ago, it’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Lucas offers, rapidly debating whether he should mention anything about Hendery. He can’t pinpoint which side of his brain wins, but he mutters something about it being a person he’s liked for a while.

Now, Lucas has seen a lot of shit-eating grins in his lifetime. He’s young and hot and athletic and in college, after all. But the grin Ten gives him the moment he mentions the word ‘like’, that was _Oscar_ worthy. _That_ was a shit-eating grin, perfected in every form, and Lucas’s mouth hangs open a little bit – in utter awe, and a little bit frightened.

“ _You have a crush!!!_ ” Ten looks so sincerely excited for Lucas that the latter feels warm inside. “We have around an hour to kill before we open shop. We’ll discuss your contract, then you can tell me everything about this special someone.” Ten’s smile is boxy, and Lucas has never reciprocated one so easily before.

Maybe he’ll actually enjoy working with Ten.

Until he remembers Ten pours his milk before his cereal. Never mind, he decides, Ten might just be the most barbaric short person he’s ever met.

Regardless, the day ends well; Lucas adjusts to Ten’s environment almost naturally, and Ten manages to get a lot of admin work done while Lucas handles the afternoon orders and purchases. There weren’t many customers in the weekday, so the two speak about nothing and everything until one finally straggles in after the average office hours. Ten thinks he and Lucas are going to get along like long-lost friends.

“What do you feel like eating?”

Lucas offers him a confused stare. “Uh, ravioli? I don’t know.”

Ten smiles in return. “Perfect! There’s this great Italian place a few blocks away. Why don’t we go there to celebrate your first day?”

“Sweet!”

“Not sweet,” Lucas regrets, as he meets Yangyang and Xiaojun’s visibly confused eyes from where they stand at the counter. Ten orders ‘the usual’ again, letting Lucas put together that he comes here often. Judging by how Xiaojun is glaring holes into Lucas’s head, specifically, he probably knows Ten.

“What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, I don’t like desserts. Haha.”

“Do you want to leave?” Lucas is taken aback by Ten’s seriousness, his eyes widening a little at the change. “I know we get along, but I’m still your boss. If you’re uncomfortable having dinner alone with me, it’s alright, we can get the food to-go and we can leave.”

Lucas feels really bad now. He’s gotten to bond quite a bit with Ten in such a short time, so he knows the other is not only a nice person, but would make a dependable boss. Ten’s sitting right across from him and taking responsibility for uncomfortableness that isn’t even his fault, and Lucas just wants to swallow up his pride and have a nice dinner with Ten despite the restaurant owners peeping their heads up at them like a couple of whack-a-moles.

Lucas doesn’t know that Ten is also uncomfortable. He knows Yangyang and Xiaojun are behaving strangely, but he also notices a familiar round doodoo head sitting some tables behind Lucas. Kun’s seated with an older, extravagant couple. If he’s having dinner with them, they must be really important clients. Kun’s head is down, the elder man has a displeased look engraved on his face, and Ten’s sure the disapproving glances the lady casts Kun means it’s not a dinner he wants to sit through.

The food arrives and Lucas picks up his cutlery before the plate is on the table. Ten keeps staring at Kun, and so does Xiaojun, since the plate is still in his hands. Lucas takes it from him before he spaces out enough to drop it.

“So you broke even. Finally.” The elder’s voice is deep and taut. “After three months of failure and wasted resources.”

When he didn’t say more, Kun softly speaks. “Thank you for having faith in us. This branch hasn’t reached its full potential yet. I’m positive you’ll be seeing profits from now on.”

“The only reason this branch is still running is because you want it. The directors disagreed, but your father puts up convincing arguments,” the woman says. “A few dollars of profit won’t be enough this time, Kun.”

He swallows. “Understood.”

“Which pizza do you want? I can’t decide. Kun, your birthday’s coming up, why don’t you pick for us,” the man smiles. Kun always gets whiplash whenever his dad does this – an unrecognizable boss one second and a supposedly doting father the next.

Kun’s birthday is in January, and it’s the middle of August right now, but he beckons an owlish Xiaojun over and orders a couple of pizzas he likes, anyway. His dad’s paying, and he can sneak a doggy bag for Hendery later. He solely accepts food from Kun as long as the company pays for it.

“I’m just glad you stopped your pilot nonsense. It’s such an exhausting career. This is so much better, right, honey?” She grabs the man’s hand over the table. He pays her no attention. “We have an heir in the making.”

Kun says nothing.

“The directors don’t want him to inherit the company, unfortunately.” She turns back to her son. “Kun, you have to impress them with this branch, alright?”

“Don’t think if you fail here we’ll let you become a pilot. That won’t happen,” his father cuts in. “Take this shit seriously and stop fooling around. We’ve named the damn company after your obsession. Your mother and I took all the criticism and bullshit that came with a fucking pilot-themed floral shop just to get you on board. Now you’re here, unwilling to work, an ungrateful fucking brat earning me nothing and wasting not only your life, but company resources. Get a fucking grip.”

Water spills over the elder, soaking his shirt and hair. Kun snaps out of it then, and sees Ten holding the empty glass in a very deliberate manner over the other’s head. Xiaojun, the one who was meant to deliver it, looks completely horrified.

“Whoops,” Ten says dryly. “Hand slipped. I’ll get you a new one. Please do control your temper in a public setting, sir. You’re disturbing other patrons.”

He goes to the kitchen, hands Xiaojun the new glass of water and returns to his seat. Kun, Xiaojun, Yangyang and Lucas just stare at him the entire time.

Ten takes his first bite out of his now cold pasta, fully aware of Xiaojun restraining Yangyang from hitting him over the head with a rolling pin.

The third, and final, time he runs into Kun, is at Ten’s own flower shop.

He’s been standing there and requesting varieties of arrangements from Ten, of which he’s been putting together for the past three hours, Kun evaluating him earnestly each time. Ten’s grateful, don’t get him wrong, but it’s late and he’s exhausted. He’s only returning the favor after Ten helped him out the other evening; Kun doesn’t have to go this far, especially when they have a very important self-indulgent competition thing going on and he’s currently aiding the enemy. Now if Ten wins, it will feel like he only did so because of Kun. This bastard.

Nevertheless, Ten lets him do whatever he wants. After studying his craftsmanship for hours now, Kun finally gets to the point.

“You don’t have an accent.”

“A what now?” Last Ten checked, he surely grew up in Thailand. He should have a slight one, at the very least.

“An anchor pulling everything together. Like a center, or a focal-point. You don’t have that.” Ten blinked. He didn’t expect there to be technical terms. “You have good use of scale and harmony, though. The arrangement’s not lopsided or anything, and the colors work really well together. You just need to organize them differently so it looks better from a glance.”

Ten blinked once more.

“The thing with you, I noticed, is your detail. You put a lot of hidden details into your art and, once others notice it, it completely transforms your work. Unfortunately, people don’t look at flowers like they look at your drawings. They don’t pay attention long enough to notice those details, and they don’t expect to look for them. It’s usually the people they receive flowers from that make them special, instead. You need to make your arrangements striking from first glance or you lose them.”

The other was quiet for a long time before rasping, “That’s not how I like to do things.”

“You can still have the details, but you have to transform the way you hide them.” Kun looked at him. “No offense, but if I spent weeks growing out of pure dirt and my florist decided to hide me in a way I don’t even play a role in the bouquet, I’d hate it here. No wonder they’re starting to wither.”

Ten stilled. “Don’t say that.”

“What? Look at the daffodils here,” Kun says as he pushes a pot towards what’s left of the sunlight. “The petal edges are brown and curling. Keep them in the sun.”

“Qian Kun,” Ten breathes. A little shakily, Kun notes. Ten keeps his head low, and mutters the last set of words he says to the other for the rest of the month. “Get out.”

When Kun walks past Honey Stems later that evening, he pretends he doesn’t see Ten hugging himself and sitting in the middle of his shop floor, no flower moved since his visit in the afternoon.

Despite the tension the last time, Ten actually listens to constructive criticism. He’s followed Kun’s suggestions, and his regulars have taken notice. In the middle of praising his use of lily leaves in one particular arrangement, he sees Lucas ringing up a good couple of rose bouquets for a single customer. Huh, that’s weird, they kind of look like Winwin.

Winwin turns around and Ten decides he’s going to ignore him until it’s time to gloat about beating Kun. No, he’s not still sulking about Winwin tearing him down in the supermarket in front of other people (he just has a lot of salty feelings about it) so, no, Ten will not deal with him today. He smiles as the customer continues about the lily leaves, before he convinces them to buy three sets for no reason other than his own satisfaction.

For the first two months of the six, Ten wins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took long to update ^^;;; New chapters will be posted every week from now on (fingers crossed)
> 
> Feedback appreciated <3  
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.qa/apricotT_T)


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